Ugh, that fucking car woke me up at 9:30, so naturally I’m too tired to workout. As if waking up cuz of the perimenopause isn’t enough. Also, had I slept the additional 2-3 hours my body needed, my weight would be down instead of up. I’ve absolutely had it with this shit! I’m so close to egging, dumping syrup or scraping a permanent marker along that fucking car… something… anything! I HATE just sitting back and taking shit, even if it’s “ok” and they’re not doing anything “illegal” or anything specifically aimed at me.

They’re asking 130K for their place. Remodeled or not, they’re not going to get that and I’m afraid they’ll be here for months, get frustrated, then give up again like they did the first time they put the place on the market. Another thing they have against them is the cemetery. Most people don’t want to live so close to one. The house next to them that’s going for 95K has been for sale forever.

I can’t say anything to them without risking trouble for myself (of course. Meanwhile, anyone can say or do anything they want to me and get away with it), but I did send their realtor an anonymous message bitching about them and all the rules they’ve broken (kids, loose dog). I hope it will get back to them and that they’ll more or less piggyback my two cents to them, but I doubt they’ll say anything.

People definitely love to break rules here. On our walk a couple of nights ago, someone’s mutt went off on us inside a picket fence when it heard us pass by. I hope that woke the owners up as well as the neighbors and that the neighbors complained. People just don’t want dogs as pets here. That is so fucking rude either way.

It used to be that things woke me up a few times a month, but now it’s a few times a week. Between that and the 3-4 bouts of landscaping I have to hear every single fucking day, I’ve really had it with this place. I haven’t slept this bad since my Phoenix apartments.

I not only wish we’d gotten the Newcastle place, but even the Lauppe place would’ve been better than this. The dog wouldn’t be any worse than all the fucking traffic and landscaping I hear here, and well, an anti-barking device certainly would’ve worked a lot better at just a few feet than it would have in Auburn at a few hundred feet. At least people couldn’t have driven by the bedroom there, and we would have only heard landscaping from the front of the house instead of all around us. Plus, it was a 3-bedroom, which I would have preferred, and I liked how you didn’t have to go through other rooms to access the second bathroom, as it should be. I would have slept in the back by the field and made my office by the driveway.

But then again my sleep has always been so cursed that God would have made sure they started some kind of construction to build something in the field behind the house. I may never know why I’m cursed, but I certainly get how this damn curse works. Even if the fucking car left right now there would just be something else. This house is way too close to too many roads for one who’s such a light sleeper and going through peri.

I still ask that age-old famous question of mine… why? I’ve never done this to anyone in my life; stolen their sleep regularly. Okay, maybe when I was a baby and when I would make prank phone calls in the middle of the night a million years ago, but whose sleep have I stolen regularly that I’ve been continually punished for decade after decade? The rats? I suppose my living life around them while they’re sleeping disturbs them from time to time, so is that it? I just don’t get it. Why is it that sleep has to be such a privilege, such a luxury for me that I have to hope for, work for and fight so hard to get? I’m a light sleeper, I have trouble falling asleep in the first place, I have trouble staying asleep, and I can’t keep a schedule… one’s sleep can’t get any more cursed than that.

I didn’t take anything last night but this time around I’ll make sure that I have a lorazepam out and ready for when they wake me up again.

Later…

Okay, Tom’s gone to work and I’m now about two hours away from the fucking landscaping and traffic annoyances, so I’m going to do some writing and as much as I can on the things that require a peaceful background so I can concentrate.

My pussy almost feels like it’s getting “zitty” again and burning more. Also, and sure enough, this comes after stopping the antibacterial soap. Really thought that with the steroid treatment, it wouldn’t matter what soap I used, but apparently, it might. I feel like this thing is never going to completely go away any more than my hormonal issues are ever going to give me a break.

Aly broke up with her girlfriend a while ago. She tweeted that she ran into her and no longer felt angry but still felt confused. I guess it’s still easier for her to stay angry at those who were there for you and honest with you.

Now that Rosemarie’s Revenge is finished I’m going to begin another story if I have enough energy for it. I’m going to keep my story account public because they’re just stories, after all. I did change its profile pic/name, plus I set Rosemarie’s Revenge to private now that it’s finished and those who might have been reading it have probably finished it. When I start sharing Kinky Kathleen (whose title may change) people will think it’s a brand-new account unless they’re following it. So using the random name generator, Amantha has become Ashlee.

The rods came to hang the soundproofing with, not that I expect it to do me any good any more than the second speaker which I’m placing directly on the bed for the next time I sleep.

The rods came in a long skinny box in which the rats are playing. The rats have two “tents” and two boxes to hang out in, along with under the footstool and behind my desk. I’m still so sick of their excessive timidness. Maybe if I do get pets after they die it will be a guinea pig. They’re usually not as timid after the first few days and I think they could climb these ramps.

My ENT appointment was short and sweet yesterday. There was just a little bit of dead skin, which she removed very easily. I won’t be going back to her for a year, I’m happy to say.

OMG, fucking parents and their fucking brats these days. As I was checking out, this couple’s brat was running around the place barefoot and screaming. Totally fucking ridiculous. The father didn’t do shit. The mother told it not to climb on some trashcan or whatever the fuck it was, and the kid defiantly said, “No.” So the mother just let him do what he wanted. I won’t even get into how badly I would have gotten my ass beat for acting like that and disobeying orders when I was that age.

Afterward, we went to Walgreens where I got some treats and Amazing Grace perfume. I tried the tester the last time I was there and really liked it.

Later…

After what happened yesterday on Prosebox, I’ve decided to go FO as many members are doing at least for a while. Someone had their private entries hacked. They had written things about their job and the asshole that hacked her shared the entries with her boss, causing her to lose the job. It was a job she supposedly loved and worked long and hard to get.

I don’t know who the victim is but I sure wish I knew who the perp was so I could block them ASAP. Dan, the owner, might know who it is and therefore I would think he would’ve banned them.

Even though my private entries don’t contain last names, addresses, phone numbers or even doctors’ names, it got me to see that you can never be too careful and you can never be too private. Yeah, seeing my visitors from around the world and being surprised by the feedback and questions I’d get may have been fun, but it’s better to play it safe, no matter how careful I may be to begin with. I figure that the fewer accounts I have and the fewer people that know about them, the less risk there is of any of them being hacked unless the site itself was hacked.

So I went FO on Prosebox and private on other sites. I will even be protecting my tweets. Even if it was harmless to share that I just put lotion on my hands, for example, does the whole world really need to know that? I’m fine with just my circle of friends on Prosebox, which apparently no longer includes Cassie. Yeah, funny how those who say they’ll “always look for you,” drift away in the end.

When I heard about this the first person that came to mind was Rachel. She’s the only one that has admitted to hacking people before. She’s always come off as a very moody, unstable and vengeful person. I haven’t heard from her in a while and I can’t say I miss her. Pretty sure she still reads me, though, and since the hacker could be anyone, I haven’t unfriended her.